


i think you know what i've been trying to say

by brahe



Series: the heart that holds it [1]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Bittersweet, Blind Kanan Jarrus, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Post-Malachor, i just have a lot of feelings about kanan and his kids ok, post-trauma coping, ultra space dad kanan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 07:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13406166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brahe/pseuds/brahe
Summary: Now that he's thinking about it, he can'tstopthinking about it. Sabine's always been visual - the walls of her room, the plates of her armor, the constantly changing color of her hair testament to that - and he's realizing all at once that it's been taken away from him, from the both of them, and he's stuck in the dark.





	i think you know what i've been trying to say

**Author's Note:**

> it's fine everything's fine i just think about kanan not knowing what his kids look like anymore like all the time and it hurts me a lot so i wrote this to try and deal with it
> 
> title from lullaby by billy joel (bc i have nO chiLL)

It’s something he hadn’t thought about - hadn’t really had room in his thoughts _to_  think about it - but they’re in the commons room on the _Ghost_  when Hera says,

“Love the hair, Sabine,”

and Kanan realizes two things at once.

The first is that he’ll never seen any of Sabine’s art again. None of her colorful explosions or beautiful paintings or ever-changing hair colors.

The second is that, apparently, there are still things in this new life for him to cry over.

“Thanks,” Sabine says, and Kanan can hear the smile in her voice. (That was one of the first things he’d mourned - the smiles of his family, the way joy looks on each of them, and how he'll never see it again.) “I felt like it was time for a change,” she explains, “and I’ve always wanted to try something light.”

“It looks great,” Hera agrees, and Kanan can tell she’s smiling, too, and he kind of wants to be anywhere but here, because his very careful grip on his emotions is starting to slip.

“Kanan?” Hera asks, and _ok_ , Kanan thinks, _maybe_ starting _is a generous word for it_.

He clears his throat, and that’s his first mistake. “Yes, Hera?” His tone is level and solid - mistake number two.

“Kanan, what’s wrong?” Hera asks again.

“It’s nothing,” he tries, and, unsurprisingly, fails.

“No it’s not,” Hera tells him, and then he feels her hands on his.

“What’s going on?” Sabine asks, and isn’t that the crux of it.

He debates not saying anything. It’s been hard enough already, for him and for Hera and the kids, and he doesn’t want to put this on them, too, doesn’t want to burden them any further. But Hera keeps telling him that there isn’t anything he can’t ask for, that they all want to help him adjust, and he knows they do. So he says,

“Sabine. You changed your hair?”

He’s kind of impressed with the way he makes it almost to the end of the sentence before his tone breaks.

“Oh, Kanan,” Hera whispers, squeezes his hands, and there’s something happening around him that he can’t figure out, until he feels Sabine next to him, her hand on his arm.

“Yeah,” she tells him, and he didn’t mean to make her cry, didn’t want to make her sad about something she’s always so happy about.

“Don’t - it’s okay.” He finds the hand on his arm and holds it, squeezes just a little and turns his head towards her. 

“Is it?” she says, and she’s definitely crying, now, and Kanan doesn’t really know what to do. “I didn’t even think - I should have mentioned it.”

“Sabine,” Hera says, calm and gentle. “We’re all still getting used to it,” she tells her, which is true, and it hurts, but it’s _true_. Will probably always be true, Kanan thinks.

Kanan releases Sabine’s hand to wrap an arm around her, and she tucks herself against him. Like this, Kanan can feel the barely-there shake of her shoulders, and he rubs his hand on her arm.

“Tell me about it?” Karan asks, and smiles a little at the wet laugh that gets him.

“It’s different around my face, now,” she tells him. “Longer. And white, mostly, but it’s purple at the ends. The white kind of fades into the purple - purple like the end of sunset. Not too dark, not too light - rich.” She pauses. “The purple of the flowers from that mission a couple weeks after you found me. The ones you brought back to the ship for me, because you said they were prettiest shade of purple you’d ever seen, and you thought I’d like them.”

Kanan hums, tries to picture it along with her description, and kind of freezes at the end. He remembers the flowers well, can picture the rich color that made him pause in the first place, but he hadn’t expected to hear her say that, hadn’t expected that she’d choose a color because of _him_.

“Sounds like it suits you,” he says, and his voice is tight.

“I like it,” Sabine agrees, quieter now. He shakes her just a little.

“What’s wrong?” Kanan asks, quiet, and there’s a pause and a shaky breath before Sabine answers him.

“It’s nothing,” she says, and Kanan waits for her to continue. “It’s just - I miss you,” she admits, voice breaking over the words, and Kanan’s heart breaks, too. “You’re still here, and I feel so bad about it, but I _miss_  you, and you won’t get to see my art anymore, or-or _any_  of it, and it’s so _selfish_ , but I - “

She cuts herself off, curls tighter into Kanan and he holds her closer, rubs at her arm as she cries.

“I miss you, too,” he tells her, and yeah, maybe he’s crying a little, too, stinging in his ruined eyes. “Force, I miss you so much. Your smile, and your hair, and your art, and your explosions,” he says, and he doesn’t really mean to be telling her all of this, but he can’t seem to bite his tongue. “And I know I’ve been distant, since - _since_ , but I’m still here. Promise.” He presses a kiss to the top of her head, lingers there. “I love you,” he says, because he does, loves her with everything he has, his daughter in everything but name.

“I love you, too,” she says, tears still in her voice, but he can tell she isn’t crying anymore. She sniffles. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Kanan’s quick to tell her. He feels Hera reach across him, assumes she takes Sabine’s hand.

“You’re allowed to be upset,” Hera says. “Just talk to us, instead of bottling it all up.”

Kanan feels Sabine nod against his chest. “Yeah, okay,” she says, and she’s silent for a moment. “I really loved those flowers,” she tells him. “I don’t think I ever told you that.”

Kanan shakes his head. “You didn’t,” he agrees. “But I knew you did. I saw a painting of them on the wall in your room once.”

Sabine laughs, brief but happy. “I’ve looked at that painting a lot, lately,” she admits, somber again. “It’s what decided me on the color.”

“I’m sure it’s beautiful,” he says, and he’s gripped again by the fierce, tight pain that comes for his heart every time he lets himself think too much about how he’ll never get to see any of them outside of memory. “It feels beautiful.” 

And maybe that sounds a little weird, but he’s paid attention to when she’s told him about her art and the reasons she makes it, and he knows she’ll understand what he means.

“Thank you,” she says, barely louder than a whisper, crushes him in a hug, and he knows she’s talking about more than the compliment.

“Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> also totally made up the thing with the flowers but i love it a lot and it's def going in the story i will eventually write about how sabine came to be on the ghost


End file.
